


Sweet, Raptured Light

by governmenthooker



Category: Hellboy (Movies 2004-2008)
Genre: Alternate Universes, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Forced Marriage, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Incest, Loss of Innocence, Non-Explicit, One Shot Collection, Pining, Rites of Passage, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Tags to be added, Trauma, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25505575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/governmenthooker/pseuds/governmenthooker
Summary: A collection of short oneshots for Nuala and Nuada. Some sweet, some dark, some inspired by songs.
Relationships: Nuada & Nuala (Hellboy), Nuada/Nuala (Hellboy)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. I - 'Cicatrix'

Nuala stared at the intricate golden blade in her brother’s paled hands. So delicate looking, but so intimidating…

“It’s going to hurt.”Her voice wavered more than she’d like to admit. 

She knew this was tradition, she knew they were of age… She knew this is just the way things were. The twins had waited with bated breath for this day for many years, maybe in fear, maybe in anticipated excitement. Nuada had been ready to receive the royal mark; he took the rite of passage in stride, counting down the months, weeks, days until the time came. Nuala, on the other hand, feared it.

She feared the pain, she feared the healing… She feared just what she would do- how she would react to such a wound. Would she take the pain like her brother, or would even the slightest beginnings of the cut send her into a shameful, panicked frenzy? Nuala was never good with pain tolerance, and the thought of being faced with such an intense kind had succeeded in keeping her up at night for the past two weeks, at least.

It was one of the very few things that separated the two twins.

Sure, Nuala had been cut before; She would always share even the worst her brother's sparring wounds; their bond showing no mercy at all.

Receiving a wound so severe had become quite a rarity though, something that only happened once every few months, if even. Her brother was so gifted in combat, and she knew their bond only aided him in being so motivated to come out of a battle completely unscathed. Nuada couldn’t exactly handle pain either, but in a very different sort of way. He always had a way of going into a rage when faced with it... This fact, only coupled with his dear sister inevitably sharing the same wound, made for an utterly deadly combination in combat. Keeping her safe would keep himself safe, and that was all that mattered.

“It will be quick, I _promise_.” Nuada spoke again softly to her, his gaze still transfixed on the blade within his grip. “…Do you trust me, sister?”

“Must you even ask such a thing?”

Nuada really couldn’t help but smile at her almost offended, _immediate_ response. The sight made Nuala’s stomach knot in anxiety even further.

“Here, take my hand,” Nuada held his free hand out to his sister, coming even closer than he already was. “Hold it as tight as you need to— you know you won’t hurt me.”

Nuala wanted to laugh, but the pound of her heart kept her utterly tongue-tied. She gently reached for his hand, taking it just as she had done so many times before this. Her eyes met his, still needing reassurance. Her heart was in her throat, and she was sure her brother could feel it. She felt the heat of blush rise to her cheeks, weather from shame or the touch of her brother, she didn't know… Nuada met her gaze for only a moment before looking back at the blade, an heirloom of their family, presented to them earlier at the day’s dawn...

“Are you ready?” Nuada sighed, giving his sister’s hand a gentle but firm squeeze.

It was the question she had been dreading; the very weight on her shoulders for the past few months now staring her right in the face. She hesitated… then nodded, just a bit.

Not sharing even a fraction of her hesitation, Nuada moved the blade to his cheek. Always the brave one, always the one to be so steadfast and ready to face things head-on. For once in her life, Nuala cursed her brother's courage. She chewed her lip hard as she felt him poke his skin with the tip...

Nuala felt her entire body tense at the already unforgivingly sharp pain. She couldn't help but dig her nails into her brother's hand, perhaps a bit too hard.

Before she could even cope with only the blade’s tip against her cheek, Nuada pressed the blade just a bit more... He gave her a small nod and continued holding her hand. Then he silently mouthed, 

_One. Two. Three._

Nuala squeezed her eyes shut at this, preparing for the worst and feeling the skin break beneath the dagger as Nuada began to slice into his own cheek. 

Nuala chewed, chewed, and chewed her lip until she could just faintly taste her own blood. She would apologize to her brother for this later, knowing she was definitely affecting his concentration on the task... Still though, the blade continued to drag across his cheek, and in turn, cut Nuala as well. The blade was already moving across the bridge of her nose to the other side of her face... Nuada was resilient, and Nuala was sure he was thinking of impressing father.

Tears threatened to spill from Nuala as she felt the slice grow bigger... She could feel the blood begin to seep down her cheeks like very tears that brimmed her eyes. Nuada felt his sister's fear and breathed a stern but caring,

"If you cry, it will sting. Just a little more- You're doing so well..." His stoic voice echoed within the fire-lit room. She squeezed his hand harder, trying not to think about how deep the cut must be by now.

Sure enough, Nuala could feel the icy sting of salt in her wounds as tears dripped from her eyes... Brother always knew best, she reminded herself. He was right about his previous statement as well, too, thankfully.

The slice was over with quickly. Maybe time had passed so quickly because Nuala had attempted so hard to block away everything, only focusing on her brother's touch... Regardless, she was thanking every god she could think of, and once again going back to thanking her brother’s courage.

The dagger fell to the floor beneath the twins with a loud _clink._ Nuala felt as if she could breathe again; she opened her eyes finally, looking to Nuada as she let go of his hand. She was so certain she had left marks, and the guilt was already eating away at her.

Nuada only stared, his amber eyes trailing the length of his sister’s wound. He watched as the blood trailed from it’s edges, down Nuala’s ivory cheeks, down her slender neck... 

He reached, pulling her into a sudden tight embrace. Nuala returned the action, burying her still bleeding face into her brother’s bare chest.

"Sister...we are truly one."

Nuala couldn’t quite put her finger on just what about her brother’s words made her shiver. Perhaps it was the pride in his voice, or the wolffish smile that had been on his dark lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cic·a·trix /ˈsikəˌtriks/, noun
> 
> • the scar of a healed wound.  
> • a scar on the bark of a tree.


	2. II - Scars Inside You

Nuala stood in silence, staring at herself in the mirror adjacently sitting a few feet away.A ghost of a girl stared back…

She didn’t recognize herself. She hated herself in black. It was too dark, too consuming… It was the same color as _him_ ; The color of his lips, the color that rimmed his eyes.

Nuala felt _sick_. She turned herself away from her reflection, her throat tight with the urge to cry. She chewed her lip, fighting the urge, trying to ignore it…

Why black? Weren’t weddings supposed to be joyous? Weren’t brides supposed to be beautiful, not cloaked in the colors of death?

Nuala did feel as if she were attending her own funeral. Perhaps in a way she was… The girl she knew, the girl she _once was_ lay dead at the feet of her own brother.

Her own flesh and blood… her own horribly gifted, horribly determined flesh and blood. She had known he would emerge victorious. She could feel it in his veins, sense in it in his presence. it had only really been a matter of time…

She recalled upon that night in that beautiful, sprawling library… She had felt so safe with Abraham, as if things were finally going to be okay, as if she had a chance to really escape.

But, oh, of course not. She remembered throwing that cursed map into the hearth, watching it burn away and feeling accomplished, only to turn and see the very ghost that haunted her.

He scolded her. He spoke of father, he spoke of their bond…

Nuala wanted nothing more than to scream. She wanted to run… Deep down though, Nuala knew it was pointless. He always found her. _Always_.

It had always been such an innocent thing when they were kids; Nuada always knowing where his sister was, wanting her safe or cheating during games of hide and seek. Now, that very innocent thing had turned into something totally opposite. Nuala would never be able to escape her brother’s unwarranted feelings… those wrong, perverted feelings…

She thought of the library again; the way he had touched her, told her how beautiful she looked in that dress… Nuala considered burning the thing.

“You always did look so beautiful in blue… But I always have a fondness for you in black as well, sister.”

Of course. _Of course_ he knew what she had been thinking of. Of course he knew that she would be in her room, hidden away… Nuala didn’t even want to face him. She stayed still as stone as she sensed her brother coming closer and closer… _too_ close for comfort, just as always.

Nuala shut her eyes, feeling him touch her, brushing her golden hair away, exposing her neck… She could feel her brother’s pulse, his quickening breath as he gazed at her skin. She allowed herself to flinch.

“Still so afraid, Nuala… You know you have no reason to be.”

She absolutely had _every_ reason to be afraid! He had killed everyone she put trust into… Everyone who gave her the chance of escaping, the chance of finally being free…

Tears stung Nuala eyes. She felt the ever present urge to run, to fight. Perhaps she could run again and find her way back to the human world…But, Nuala only sighed gently. Not really having the energy to fight, she forced a smile and submitted to her brother’s touch.

“I know, my prince. I suppose I’m just nervous.”

He chuckled. “Nervous? Oh, but why, my sister? To be married is something to be celebrated…”

The sickness returned. Nuala felt heat encompass her entire being. Her smile faltered, but she remained stone-cold.

Nuala said nothing.

Perhaps she felt guilty for needing him. He was her brother after all, and the bond they shared was almost sadistic. Distance never mattered; if anything, it only intensified. The ache she felt when he wasn’t near was unmistakable. Even with _who_ Nuada was, the things he did, Nuala still felt a _need_ for him.

It was disgusting, but Nuala knew it was something that just couldn’t be helped. No healer, no matter how gifted, would be able to break such an ethereal connection. Her people would say how much of a blessing it was, how much of a gift her and her brother shared. Two souls never apart, despite everything.

And now, in a twisted irony, the siblings would truly never be separated again. 

As Nuala held her brother’s hands, she tried to avert herself from his unyielding gaze. She was so certain he could feel her shaking, feel how her thoughts were racing. She prayed that the veil of black lace enveloping her would hide the tears brimming her amber eyes…

Nuala thought of the humans. She thought of their world; how beautiful it had seemed before their streets were stained in blood. Nuala thought of Abraham and that safe feeling she knew would never return to her.

She felt Nuada, her prince, her _king_ , squeeze her hand a bit tighter. A warning to forget, she assumed. She dared to look up at him, seeing those same darkened eyes boring into her, their rims the same consuming color as her gown... A funeral for her past life. A funeral for what could have been.

Nuala knew would never be able to look at the golden leaves that fell upon the royal courtyard in the same way. She would never view the walls of her lifelong home the same way ever again. The walls of her castle, _his_ castle…

Eternally her prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Now there is nothing between us,  
> From now our merge is eternal.  
> Can't you see that you're lost?  
> Can't you see that you're lost without me?
> 
> I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart;  
> I can see through the scars inside you…”
> 
> \- ‘Cirice’, Ghost


End file.
